488 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 1, 18«5. 
OUTING ON PINE ISLAND. 
St. Petersburg, Fla.— Editor Forest and Stream: Three 
of us, who had rather fish than eat, chartered a small 
sharpie, and after fitting her out with wood, water and 
provisions, we sailed out of the harbor with Pine Island 
for our objective point. 
We had to beat against a heavy sea and flood tide until 
we cleared Point Pinelos, when we had a free sheet, and 
fairly flew from the top of one roller to another. In about 
two hours we again changed our course, bringing the 
wind on the beam, when we began to roll so badly that 
one of the party got seasick. 
Our course now took us over about three miles of shoals, 
through which we could clearly see the bottom every foot 
of the way. With our centerboard well drawn up, we 
fairly flew wing and wing over water that was in many 
places only a foot deep, and which at low tide left only a 
series of naked sandbars. We beat our sharpie through 
the long and deep Pass a Grille against wind and tide, 
and finally ran out on the great Gulf of Mexico. Sailing 
along the west coast of Pine Key until we entered a land- 
locked cove, we beached our boat and took possession of 
an old weather-beaten house which had long been occu- 
pied on and off by fishermen. 
After cleaning house, we nailed mosquito bars over the 
open windows, moved in our provisions and bedding. 
From pine knots we made a camp-fire, over which our 
kettles and frying-pans were soon singing. 
A sloop hove in sight, headed for our dock. With a 
field glass we could see ladies on board, and, as we could 
also see bedding and boxes of provisions on deck, we con- 
cluded the intruders had designs on our pre-emption. 
We held a council of peace and concluded to give the 
ladies the best room of the four, take the two next best 
rooms for ourselves, and courteously permit the men to 
occupy the remaining poorest room. We greeted them 
politely. Before we could tell them our plan of dividing the 
rooms, the captain coolly informed us that he was the 
owner of a part of the island, including the house we had 
pre-empted. We speedily made a compromise by taking 
the poorest room. This party was headed by a Baptist 
preacher, with son and daughter, a photographer and 
wife, a young widow, a young "cracker" merchant and 
the Fioridian skipper. The preacher complained because 
there were no chairs, napkins or teaspoons. In consider- 
ation of his profession, the ladies gave him the best of the 
two rooms that the captain had assigned for their exclu- 
sive use. 
The key which we occupied had a poor sandy soil. The 
island was sparsely covered with palm, wateroak and 
mangrove trees, under which grew a coarse, saw blade 
grass unfit for stock, but well adapted to hiding rattlers, 
of which we saw none. Way out eight miles from our 
camp the Government has anchored a "whistling buoy," 
which makes a never-to-be-forgotten mournful sound as 
each great wave fills the wind whistle with air, warning 
mariners that there is great danger lurking under the 
water that covers Boca Ceige shoals. 
About two miles northwest we saw a sand key that 
was fringed with a long line of scrubby mangrove trees. 
We took the sharpie, sailed out and made a landing under 
the lee of the trees. We waded out and soon found a 
clam bed, where we "trod for clams," which we found in 
great plenty. Then we gathered shells and curios until 
near sundown, when we returned to our boat. We found 
it high and dry. After waiting two long hours, we got 
uuder way and sailed home. After supper the whole 
party found easy positions around the camp-fire and sang 
some plantation melodies. 
The next morning the minister and his party took their 
departure. During the day we caught a fine string of 
mackerel and one large grouper. There are a great many 
quail on the island, but as we brought no gun, they were 
safe. Evenings we generally took a stroll on the beach 
and watched the sun as it sank into the water, looking 
like a great ball of fire heated to a cherry red. 
We are up with the sun— no one lingers in such a bed, 
namely, a single blanket spread on the pine floor— and 
take in the morning fishing, never failing to get enough 
for breakfast. For a butter-dish we used a large clam 
shell. For salt and pepper dishes we use scollop shells. 
We drank our coffee from tin cups, which we kept bright 
by scouring with sand and water, and clean and polish 
our iron knives, forks and spoons in the same manner. 
For light, we use home-made candles. 
The old house was much out of repair. Indeed, no 
small pirt of the building had been used up in fuel for 
camp-fires. .The "small truck" farmers had robbed the 
building of its windows and doors, and the only furniture 
we found was a rough board table, which we scrubbed 
with sand and lime juice until it was comparatively clean. 
For all time to come we shall have infinite respect for 
the woman who keeps kettles and kitchen clean and tidy. 
On the same day tbat we arrived a 10-ton schooner 
came in from the Gulf and remained over night. As her 
captain and crew landed at midnight, carrying baskets of 
merchandise to a sandy plateau in the middle of the 
island, we concluded they were smugglers. Before day- 
light they sailed in a southerly direction. 
After breakfast we took their track and tried to find = 
the cache, but we might as weU have tried to find a track 
m the water as in the sand of this plateau. 
Two days afterward a sharpie came in from the bay with 
thre& men on board, who told us they came to fish, but as 
they had no ice nor salt, we concluded they were confed- 
erates of the smuggler. Daring the following night they, 
having the bearings of the cache, brought back the goods 
in sacks and sailed up the bay toward Tampa. We were 
told that Pine Island and Long Key are much used as a 
rendezvous by smugglers, for the reason that Government 
vessels never run in at Pass a Grille. 
The wind blew a gale from the southwest for two days. 
With every wave we could see some small shells that 
quickly dug holes in the sand. They were about as large 
as a bean, varied in color, with Bhells so soft that we 
could crush them with thumb and finger. They are 
called pompano shells. 
The pompano is the choicest and most expensive fish 
that swims in the Gulf. They are not beautiful like the 
Spanish mackerel, but they stand at the head as a table 
fish. They have fewer bones than any other fish. Their 
bones are soft and largely disappear in cooking. The 
meat is fine-grained and rich in flavor. They have no 
teeth. Indeed they need no teeth, for they do not live 
upon other fish, but upon the above described soft pom- 
pano shells. They do not bite at a hook, and are taken 
only with gill nets. They have no scales, and are as 
smooth and as easily dressed as a brook trout. They 
bring fifty cents per pound, fresh, in Northern markets. 
_R. P. Bell. 
THE MUSEUM CARIBOU. 
[Continued from page h09.] 
Nuel went in the rain to his snares. He found three 
hanging up dripping with water. Two of these rabbits 
(hares) were not quite gray, as we say, on one side. It 
was brown on one, and the rump was the same color — as 
though the winter had not quite changed it. 
This was Sunday, and we were to have a rabbit stew for 
dinner. For amusement I wanted to try my hand upon 
a stew. Of course I could not do as Maria taught me 
years ago, but I could make noodles of prepared flour; 
and that it was good the quantity that Nuel ate was 
proof. After he bad eaten more than a whole rabbit he 
remarked, with a smack and pat of his stomach, "Good, 
Doc'or. You beat squaw an' white cook. Me like dem 
dis kine rabbit. Mose so good as moose. We never starbe 
wid dis dinnie." ■ 
Well, I thought myself it was pretty good, though it 
lacked all vegetables, even onions. There was rabbit, 
slips of bacon, salt, pepper and dumplings dropped in 
gravy. It was well I learned to make this stew. We 
found its use afterward. 
The camp outside was damp, and everything was drip- 
ping with water. I noticed, too, that Nuel seemed to have 
a little cold, and I felt myself like clearing my throat very 
often. But the rain continued the following day, and in 
consequence Nuel could not start until 12, and then the 
short brush drenched him. He insisted on going. He 
said, "Dis good time for hunt um. Not make no noise. 
You watch um from tree. Tell me w'at you see." 
We found no rabbits in the snare. The cause, he tells 
me, was because "It not run in rain. He hate wet." 
I busied myself during the afternoon in chopping more 
billets. I wanted to have plenty of wood. Nuel returned 
by 3, and a more bedraggled man I never saw. I could 
see, too, that something was weighing on his heart besides 
his heavy clothes. I said nothing, though, except to re- 
mark, "Well, Nuel, you are wet. Get off those clothes 
and put around you your blanket and my comfortable. 
We will dry your clothes soon." 
"Oha, bad luck" said Nuel. "Me is so sorry. Too bad, 
too bad. Cou'n't help." 
Of course, I was very anxious to know what had oc- 
curred, but said nothing until I had made the pancakes. 
Meanwhile Nuel, half clad, shivered occasionally as he 
turned around to the blazing fire. When we were seated 
he commenced. "Doc'or, me sad. Me sorry you call. I 
dis'poin. 
"Why I What is the reason? What has disappointed 
you?" 
"Berry much. Dis ticulum ticulum in my trote make 
me mose crazy. Made me lose callebou. An' de more me 
try not ahem hem, an' den it seem all de worse. Me tot 
me hear calleboo comin' dis way. Me lissen. Me try to 
shut my trote, but it will ticulum ticulum. Den me put 
leaf in my mouf . Mose choke my trote, but it will ticu- 
lum. Me sit down and lissen. No more soun' for good 
w'ile. Den me wait. Not hear um sound. Me say day 
gone. Me fine dem 'reckly. Well, me go on careful an' 
den dat ticulum ticulum come again. Cou'n't help, an' 
away went calleboo, two, four, six. Oh me dreadful 
sorry. Can't sleep, me afraid." 
"Oh never mind, Nuel. It was unfortunate." 
"Un-for-tu-nate. Worse dan dat. It make me lose 
um dat calleboo." 
But it was not many minutes before I found something 
that might be worse than Nuel's disappointment and my 
loss. I found that Nuel continued to cough and I heard 
from time to time a hoarse sound in his chest. From ex- 
perience I knew what was seated in the breast of many 
Indians and how many would die of consumption. Nuel 
was among the doomed ones. But how to help and save 
him was now the question with me. I saw his flushed 
face and his restlessness as he turned from side to side. 
In my box were a few remedies intended for myself, if 
needed, but how could I minister to Nuel was the ques- 
tion. I first gave him a little muriate of ammonia to 
allay the cough. Then in a little time I said: "Now, 
Nuel, I must give you something more [his head seemed 
heavy and his eyelids dropped down] ; 1 am going to take 
the same myself. 1 think it will be good for you. It is 
very bitter. I am going to take a little brandy with it too." 
Brightening up — "Some rum. Me guess it will do belly 
good." 
"Yes, but you must take some quinine with it." 
"Can't me take de rum firs' an' den de med'cin'?" 
"Why yes, but it will make the medicine taste the 
worse." 
"Nev' mine. Me can take anyt'ing affer rum." 
I took about 5grs. of quinine and a teaspoonful of 
brandy and swallowed it. Nuel preferred to take his in 
a tablespoonf ul of cold tea. I mixed it with 12 or 14grs. 
of quinine and a moderate drink of brandy in a tin cup, 
as a reward for taking it Nuel made a gulp of the tea and 
quinine. He thought it was going right down without 
difficulty, but he found he had to swallow more than once 
to get it down. His exclamation was: "Oh, Doc'or! dat 
de worse med'cin' me ever tas'ed. Screw me all up. Worse 
dan wile turnip an' skunk cabbage root." 
But the brandy and water was swallowed without com- 
plaining. I told him to be careful and keep his blanket 
and comfortable around him. "Never mind," I said, "if 
you feel hot. It will make you well." 
"Ah! me un'erstan' you. It good for belly trote. Dribe 
out pain." 
"And now, Nuel, if your head sings and you can't think 
well, don't mind it. You will feel better next after- 
noon." 
With these precautions Nuel went to sleep. I could 
hear him muttering from time to time, but he slept well. 
Not until the morning did he speak. Then he Baid: 
"Doc'or, dis drunk not gone away. Ear sing an' head fall 
doun. Me fraid me sick." 
I simply said: "Oh, no, Nuel. You are all right. Sleep 
as long as you can. You don't cough now and no ticulum. 
By and by I will give you some dinner." 
"Me all right, you say, Doc'or?" 
"Yes, and to-morrow you will feel well." 
' 'Is dat so? All right. Me do as you say, but me berry 
sorry me lose calleboo an' gib you trouble." 
' 'Are you nice and comfortable, Nuel? Are you warm?" 
"Yees, Doc'or, berry comfor'ble. Me go 'sleep. Eyes 
shut um up. Can't help um." 
And poor fellow, he did sleep, and I imagined never on 
a more comfortable couch than this. He did not awake 
until after 2 o'clock. 
During the morning I went to the snares. It had rained 
nearly all night and we found only one rabbit. This was 
made for a stew, as Nuel thought. From hour to hour 
I visited our tree, as I could. It rained so hard and so 
frequently I did not dare to visit it very often. Oh, what 
a dreary day ! The sky like lead and only occasionally 
rifts of light and gusts of wind and rain that would 
threaten to upturn the roots. I noticed, too, that there 
was sleet with the rain and appearance of colder weather. 
The most of my time was spent with my chopping block. 
Between times I would chop until we had enough wood, 
but it required a deal of billets. 
As I said, soon after 2 Nuel woke up. His eyes and his 
face looked better, especially after he had demolished two 
cups of coffee and the most of a rabbit and two large pan- 
cakes. His exclamation was: "Me guess drunk all 
gone. You said not drunk. Me Glad. You said me 
goin' to be well morrow. It goin' to be cole an' snow, I 
t'ink. 
The weather was very much as Nuel said. Next morn- 
ing everything was covered with ice and snow. "No 
doubt," I said, "it is one of those November storms that 
almost invariably come at this time." Nuel said: "Me 
guess it goin' freeze up swamp. We rnus' have hunt now. 
Good time." 
But I said: "No, no, Nuel; not to-day. Go to-morrow. 
Then you will be well and see how the ticulum is." He 
coaxed very hard to let him go; but no, I said, and laid 
his gun over by my side of the camp. "What would I 
do?" I urged. "What would I do if you were sick and we 
had nothing to eat?" 
"Umph. Yees, yees. Me see; but me wan' to hunt all 
de same." 
The day was not eventful. When Nuel came back from 
his snares he found another rabbit and, to my astonish- 
ment, an old cock partridge was hanging up without its 
head. I knew there had been no shooting around here, 
and I was led to ask Nuel how it came. 
"Berry funny. I was set snare — one, free, two, an' 
me only gone little way w'en me hear drum, drum, 
drum. Jus' like fly an' drummin', an' me say, 'mus' see 
dis.' Den me see. Neck caught by snare. Goin' to 
strangle. Me cut off kcch. Make um blood. You said 
bes' to kill." 
And there was still more to interest me. The air was 
very still after the storm of yesterday, and I noticed an 
unusual sky. The heaven was much like ashes, with 
only a dim spot in the firmament. Even the Canada jays 
seemed silent, and a few chickadees, that turned upside 
and underside as tbey hunted for food, simply called teek. 
It was so dark before 3 o'clock that it appeared like even- 
ing. Nuel remarked, "Me t'ink goin' be snow. Dat 
good. Me see um plain. Not make um much noise." 
But next morning we had more snow than Nuel had 
bargained for. Everything was covered to the depth of 
eighteen inches or perhaps two feet, and the snow was 
Eiling up as fast as ever. The camp was so warm that we 
ad to open our bark opening, and the camp poles ap- 
peared to bend under the weight of the snow. From time 
to time the fireplace would hiss with steam as pieces of 
falling snow would tumble in from the apex. Nuel had 
to shovel with his snowshoes a way to the spring. Every- 
thing that could possibly bear a flake of snow was laden 
with it. The spruce trees and firs, large and small, 
seemed like white tents throughout the landscape. But 
Nuel was determined to try his luck at 9 o'clock — snow as 
it did — and it seemed to me to snow just as hard as ever. 
It could not be less than two and a half feet. His sugges- 
tion was, "Doc'or, you had better stay roun' wigwam. 
Freese han's an' slip if you walk, an' berry, berry easy to 
lose in woods." 
However, it was not long before Nuel returned. He 
looked woebegone and tired enough to fall down. His 
words were, "Ush! My Doc'or! Me so glad to see you. 
No luck but dees rabbit. Eberyt'ing bury in snow. 
Skirls can't run, nor rabbit; only plunge aroun' an' 
flounce, you call. Me never saw worse snow. Snare no 
good. Can't fine no more. S'pose you gib me leettle 
rum? Do my belly good. You see on back — two rab- 
bit." 
"No, no, Nuel. Rum bad for Indian. You go and dry 
your clothes and put a blanket on you. I will give you 
Borne coffee and plenty of my squaw food. That is best 
for you." 
"Well, maybe; you know bes'. But I like um rum." 
The truth was, I had not much brandy. I only kept it 
for emergencies. 
Before Nuel had arrived home I found a great change 
in the weather. The snow had been changing into rain. 
By 2 o'clock it was raining hard and before ovening the 
plastered snow iimbs and loaded branches gave way with 
a rush. But before 10 o'clock the weather changed. We 
could feel it too, and I had to close our back door. How- 
ever, everything looked cosy and warm inside the camp. 
We could make all the heat we wanted and with not 
very much smoke. 
Next morning everything was frozen up and we could 
walk where we liked on the crust. As early as we could 
see, Nuel ascended our tree, but made no report until 
a little after sunrise. Then he reported. "Doc'or, you jus' 
come an' see de calleboo — one, tr'ee, five. One big one — 
you call stag — two smaller an' two two-year-old." 
And sure enough, there was a little band, walking 
along in regular order, going out, it was evident, with 
the intent of visiting the little island, as Nuel called it. 
From this place it seemed to be about a mile and a half 
away, but from the edge of the outer woods not more 
than three quarters of a mile. But now everything was 
excitement with Nuel and I think considerable excite- 
ment with myself. Nuel's charge was: "Now, Doc'or, 
me must go an' see if me can't get to udder side of islan'. 
Calleboo done smell quite so much as moose, but 
he see on snow an' hear crus' berry good. You hab bet- 
ter stay here an' watch um tree, an' w'en calleboo start to 
come dis way (be will come dis way, me tink) right down 
dare — you see, hollow place — ien you be ready, If me 
miss um, get some calleboo any kine — if you can." 
I listened very attentively to his charge and in a short 
time Nuel was away. 
